


I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea

by gotatheory



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Nottingham is such a sub, Robin tops, Wish Realm, wish!Nottingham - Freeform, wish!Robin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: Robin picks up a bar wench and Nottingham discovers the two of them together. He gets jealous.





	I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea

Robin’s had a lucrative couple of days, collected enough coin that he feels comfortable visiting a tavern and celebrating with a little ale, perhaps some nice company. He’s working his third ale now, almost finished with it as he looks at the wench who’s been serving him all night. She’s pretty — not stunning, but attractive enough, with a nice smile that almost looks sincere as she dodges handsy drunkards. She has long dark hair and wide dark eyes, and it makes him think of Marian, though her hair isn’t dark enough, and her skin is lighter, creamier. It’s almost better that way, sometimes, when they don’t look as much like his dead beloved.

“Want another?” the wench asks as she sees him drain his cup.

“No, I think I’m finished with that,” he says, looking up at her. She’s standing to his right, and it’s got him eye level with her breasts, pushed up as they are by a rather hard-working corset. The soft swells are spilling over the top, and he thinks one good tug would have her free. He bites his lip at the thought.

“Could I interest you in something else?”

His eyes flick up to her face, and she’s smirking at him. “What did you have in mind?” he murmurs, and watches as her smirk widens. She turns away then, walking away from the table with only a glance back over her shoulder encouraging him to follow after her.

As if he needed the encouragement.

He casts a quick look around the room to make sure no one unsavory has taken an interest in their exchange, and then he’s rising from his seat. Trailing after her, taking a moment to appreciate the view, though her skirt hides most of what he’s trying to get a glimpse of. But it’s no matter, because soon they’re emerging out of a side door, Robin digging for a bit of coin that he passes to her. She inspects them in the dim torchlight from the still-open tavern door, studying them and apparently finding them satisfactory. With a raised brow, she says, “Any special requests?”

“No,” he tells her, well aware of what this amount of gold will get him, and that’s all he needs.

She nods, business done and dusted, and then she’s pulling him deeper into the alleyway, the door shutting behind them. She loops her arms around his neck, her smile flirtatious once more, and those dark eyes of hers locked on his mouth.

Robin takes that as permission, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, and Gods, it’s been too long since he’s done something like this. Kissed a woman, touched one, times have been hard as of late and he’s made due in light of his poverty, but now he’s eager to feel a soft body against his once more. But first he wants to enjoy this, the warmth of her mouth, so he lets his tongue slip against her lower lip, gently pressing at the seam.

She parts her lips with a moan, responsive just like he paid her to be, and then she’s letting his tongue in, letting it stroke along her own.

For several moments, they kiss passionately, mouths meeting and parting until finally, Robin is ready for something more heated. He turns her, maneuvers until her back is against the side of the tavern. He breaks their kiss for a moment, his hands sliding from heir waist to her corset, eyes meeting hers in a second of hesitation.

The woman raises an eyebrow, granting him permission, and thankfully she doesn’t point out that she’s already given him all the permission he could need.

So he does what he wanted back in the tavern, and gives her ties a quick yank, loosening them before he’s tugging at the top of the corset. Just like he had imagined, it goes easily, unable to contain the mounds it had been fighting to hold all night, and her tits spill free. Robin groans at the sight of them, unsurprised to see that they are as fantastic as he thought.

He kisses down her neck to her cleavage, takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs on it, just to hear her moan. She’s wonderfully responsive to his touch, and he’s got enough ale in him and enough of an ego to think it’s solely because of his prowess, and not because he slipped her some coin as they headed out here. He busies himself with her tits, licking her nipples, kissing the undersides, and tries to not think about how he doesn’t even know her name.

She’s just a warm body, a place to stick his cock that’s not his own fist. He doesn’t need to know her name, she doesn’t need to know his.

There’s a part of him that twinges, a part long buried, six feet under like Marian, that hates what he’s become but he ignores it, and starts shoving up her skirts with one hand as she undoes the laces of his trousers. He groans into her neck as her fingers wrap around his cock, half-hard but quickly stiffening, and two can play that game. His hand steals between her thighs, cups her, and oh yes, she’s warm and wet and going to feel like heaven wrapped around him.

“Oooh,” she moans breathily as he wastes no time, slipping two fingers inside of her just to test her out. She squeals when he withdraws his fingers, using both hands to grip her ass and hoist her up the wall, her arms and legs wrapping around his body.

Robin uses one hand under her ass and his body weight to pin her to the wall, as his other hand grips his cock and lines up. That sappy, sentimental part of him comes back and he can’t resist pressing his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes as he sinks into her. He watches her eyes flutter before his own are shutting, overwhelmed by how fucking good she feels on his cock.

He sets a hard, quick pace, little jerky thrusts of his hips that have her biting her lip to keep from crying out. “Just like that?” he mutters when she loses the battle, a sharp cry escaping before she manages to silence it.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” she moans, and tacks on, “You’re so _big_ …”

And she’s saying that because of the money jingling around in that coin purse of hers, the one he can hear rattling with every grind of his hips. He lets it stroke his ego anyway, fucks her harder, working them closer and closer to oblivion.

Distantly, he hears footsteps, but no matter, just someone walking out of the tavern, probably about to get a bit of a show before they move on. He merely covers her mouth, in the hopes of not drawing attention, and buries his face into her neck to stifle his own grunts and groans.

He’s not so lucky tonight, though, not when he hears, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Robin of Locksley,” and Robin’s hips stutter, jerking erratically as he hears _that_ voice.

“Hello, sheriff,” he manages to say, a touch breathlessly, but he thinks he holds it together rather well considering he’s balls deep inside a bar wench. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Sheriff?” the woman gasps, her legs dropping from around his waist, her hands shoving at him.

Robin sighs, letting her go and taking a step back, his cock throbbing as he pulls free of her warmth. He doesn’t even look at her as she tries to cover her breasts, his gaze locked onto to Nottingham. The sheriff returns his stare, his face twisted into an unreadable expression.

“Go away,” Nottingham orders the woman as she begins to babble excuses, explanations for the compromising situation he’s caught them in. She exclaims some sort of breathless gratitude as she scurries away, escaping behind the tavern. He advances towards Robin then, stalks right over to him and growls, “I should haul you away in chains right now for this indecency, not to mention your _other_ crimes.”

“Then why don’t you, sheriff?” Robin questions as he looks down at his palm, examining the gold in his hand. Pilfered from the wench’s coin purse — what he paid her and a little more. He didn’t intend to steal it back, but considering they were interrupted… She could hardly blame him, he reasons.

“Because I’d rather remind you that _this_ —” He reaches down, wraps his gloved hand around Robin’s cock and squeezes, Robin hissing at the sudden pressure— “is _mine_.” He pumps him, once, twice, a few more times before Robin grips his wrist, stilling the motion.

“You’ve gotten it all wrong, as usual, sheriff,” he sighs long-sufferingly, peeling his hand away from his hard length. Nottingham is taller, but Robin’s quicker, and it takes very little effort to turn Nottingham until he’s face first against the side of the building, that arm twisted behind his back, and Robin’s body pinning him there. “ _You_ belong to me, not the other way around.”

“Unhand me, Locksley!” Nottingham shouts, struggling in Robin’s grasp, but he can’t get the proper leverage to get free.

Or, as Robin suspects, it’s really just a show.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he murmurs to him, leaning in close to his ear, and suddenly all the fight drains out of Nottingham in a shuddering breath. “When you saw me inside that whore, did you imagine it was you? Held against the wall as I fucked you?”

“N-no,” he answers, voice shaky, rough, and Robin laughs.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re very bad at it,” he chastises, drops a kiss on Nottingham’s neck before biting it in punishment. He reaches around with the hand not restraining him, seeks out the bulge growing between his legs and cups him. “Look at that. Already hard. Is it because you saw that woman’s tits? Did you maybe think of being inside of her like I was? How good she must have felt? Go ahead, tell me this is for her.”

He doesn’t say anything, and Robin can see the twisted grimace he’s making right now as he squirms against him. It takes some effort, but Robin’s nimble fingers start pulling at the laces of his breeches, working them free, and Nottingham gasps at every brush of his hand over his rapidly hardening cock.

“You can’t tell me, can you? Because I told you not to lie to me,” Robin whispers, smirking when Nottingham lets out a pitiful little moan to confirm it. “She didn’t get you this hard, did she? Do you even get hard thinking about women anymore? Or is it just for me?”

If he was going to answer, Robin doesn’t give him the chance. He’s got his breeches open enough now to fit his hand in, and anything Nottingham might have said is lost in his groan as Robin’s fingers wrap around him.

“It’s okay,” he says, dotting another one of those tiny kisses to Nottingham’s cheek. It’s almost tender, a counterpoint to the harsh grip he has on his dick, and his eyes flutter as Robin pumps. “You don’t have to say anything, I already know the truth. You know it, too, don’t you? That you’re _mine_.”

He whimpers, shakes his head as best he can considering his position, and Robin _tsks_ at him.

“You’re not mine?” He strokes harder, teases his tip with his thumb, stroking and rubbing over it, spreading the moisture gathering there. “Then why are you about to come in my hand?”

Nottingham lets out a ragged breath, his hips twitching, and then Robin stops. Releases his cock, releases him, and it takes a moment for him to do anything. But then he sags into the wall, breathing heavily, his forehead pressed against it.

“Turn around,” Robin orders, and the sheriff obeys, pushing away from the wall and facing him. He bites his lip at the sight, Nottingham still panting, his cock hard and standing at attention. He reaches for him, pulls him into a meeting of their mouths. It’s a tangle of tongues as Robin deepens the kiss immediately, their teeth clacking together at the ferocity. When he pulls away, nipping at Nottingham’s bottom lip as he does so, he murmurs, “On your knees.”

Nottingham’s eyes go wide. “Here? No, not here,” he whispers, almost scandalized, and Robin raises his eyebrows.

“All right then,” he says with a shrug. He reaches for his cock, makes the motion of tucking himself back into his pants. “Then I guess we’re done here, sheriff.”

“What? You can’t just—” Nottingham sputters, and Robin sighs, frustration evident in as he speaks over him, “It’s either here or I leave. Do you want this or not?”

Robin watches as Nottingham closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. And then he sinks to the ground, just as obedient as always, and fuck if the sight doesn’t make his cock twitch. “There we go,” he says, perhaps a little breathlessly. He licks his lips, and Nottingham mimics him, his eyes focused on the stone hard length before him. When Robin reaches down and strokes himself, Nottingham gasps, and he can’t help but tease, “Do you want a taste, hmm?”

And Nottingham knows how much Robin likes him to ask for it, to admit he _needs_ his cock, so he dutifully responds, “Yes, please.”

He shuffles closer, until his tip bumps against Nottingham’s mouth. “Go on, give a little lick,” he instructs, rubbing his cock over his lips until he does just that, his lips parting and his tongue flicking out to stroke over him. It’s just a little tease, a flick of his tongue over the head of Robin’s cock, but Gods, it’s enough to have Robin’s mouth opening in a silent gasp. He’s riled up, after having been inside the whore, having felt her wet heat all around him, fitting him like a glove, and he doubts it’s going to take much for Nottingham to get him to the edge. But he wants to enjoy this, always wants to enjoy having the sheriff on his knees for him, the outlaw, so he breathes in deep through his nose as Nottingham slowly drags his tongue over his length.

He lets Nottingham tease without comment, simply watches as he turns his entire attention to the cock in front of him. Nottingham is nothing if not dedicated to a task, as Robin well knows from the sheriff’s dogged determination to catch him. Fortunately he has the same amount of determination when it comes to sucking Robin’s cock, so yes, he will let Nottingham trace the vein along the underside as slowly as he wants right now.

It’s almost lovingly, the way Nottingham draws his tongue over him, laving his cock, denying Robin the pleasure of his mouth wrapped around him. Embarrassingly, it has Robin groaning already, pleasure shivering up his spine at every pass of Nottingham’s tongue. He needs more, something more substantial than the gentle pressure Nottingham is giving him.

Robin’s hand finds Nottingham’s hair, tangling there as he forces his head back so he can meet his eyes. “Enough,” he says firmly, guiding him back to his cock until his lips part around him and take him inside. Gods, sinking into Nottingham’s mouth is a dream, Robin’s eyes squeezing shut as his teeth bite into his lower lip. Feels just as good as the wench’s cunt did, all wet and warm around him.

“Can you taste her on me, sheriff?” he asks, opening his eyes and staring down at him, his body tensing at the mere sight of Nottingham with his mouth wrapped around his cock.

Nottingham’s own eyes close at that, even as he sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks around Robin’s length. He moans, vibrating through his cock and Robin’s head falls back on his shoulders, releasing his own moan.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he says, fingers digging into Nottingham’s scalp. “You like that, don’t you? Tasting someone else on my cock. Maybe I should call her back here, let you watch me fuck her a bit. Would you like that, sheriff? Hmm?”

He whimpers then, his eyes flicking up to meet Robin’s, and Robin can see that flair of jealousy. But then his mouth opens wider, and oh fuck, he’s relaxing his throat, Robin can feel him taking him deeper. Gods, what a kinky bastard, his sheriff.

“That’s right, Nottingham,” he murmurs, can’t resist stroking a hand through Nottingham’s hair, then cupping the back of his head to keep him in place. As if he was going anywhere with the way he’s bobbing on his cock right now, swallowing it down like he was made for it. “Take all of my cock. Fuck, just like that, suck a little harder…”

Gods, fucking hell, he’s so good at this, knows just the right amount of pressure, how to use his tongue. Robin fights the urge to jerk his hips, to thrust into Nottingham’s mouth. He can feel the pressure build in his balls, the way they tighten with desire, and he groans breathlessly, “Gonna come and you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you?”

Nottingham moans around him in affirmation, somehow seems to take even more of him down his throat, and Robin grunts as he releases in spurts in his mouth.

Everything is still for a moment as Nottingham draws away from him, his length slipping free from his mouth as Robin lets his hand fall away from the back of Nottingham’s head. 

Robin takes the time to catch his breath, before finally looking back down at Nottingham. He hasn’t moved from his position on his knees, despite being finished with his task, and that sends a lingering punch of arousal through Robin. He makes quite the sight like this, on his knees with lips swollen from his cock. Gods, Robin wants to take him somewhere other than this alleyway so he can fuck him properly.

All he’d have to do is suggest it, and he’s sure Nottingham would agree.

He doesn’t offer, though, instead reaching down to capture his chin between his forefinger and thumb. He tilts his head back, studies the lustful expression on his face, the blatant arousal darkening his eyes, and Robin smirks down at him.

“Did you enjoy that, sheriff?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

Nottingham doesn’t disappoint. He yanks his gaze away, but he still whispers a shameful, “Yes.”

“None of that, now,” Robin murmurs, taking a firmer hold of his jaw, moving his hand so he can stroke a tender thumb along Nottingham’s plump bottom lip. “You enjoy what you enjoy. No shame in that.”

He slips his hand down to Nottingham’s shoulder, giving him a little tug to get him standing. Once they’re face to face — or rather, once he’s looking up at Nottingham (Robin would be lying if he said that he doesn’t find their height difference somewhat arousing, especially when Nottingham bends to his whims) — he pulls him into a kiss, biting at his lips in the way Nottingham loves.

Nottingham moans, trembling at Robin’s touch, and when he presses into him, Robin grins.

Nipping at his jaw, he murmurs, “What do you say, sheriff? Do you feel ashamed of what you like right now?”

“Locksley,” he gasps, neck arching as he nibbles his way down to the hollow of his throat. “I—”

“Hmm?” he hums, flicking his tongue over sensitive skin. He sucks his way back up, latching onto a spot near his jaw and biting down, marking the flesh and ripping a ragged groan from Nottingham. “Tell me what you feel.”

Robin keeps marking his neck, sucking kisses up and down, and it has Nottingham writhing in his arms, gasping and moaning with each suck or pull of his teeth. He ups the game, one of his hands reaching for Nottingham’s straining cock, grasping his hardness in his nimble fingers.

“Gods,” he gasps, jerking in his touch, and then he’s babbling, “I feel — fuck, it feels good. Please.”

“Please what?” Robin pulls back so he can see Nottingham’s face, the scrunch of his brow and his mouth opened in a small “O” of pleasure. He loves seeing him like this, when he’s lost to the ecstasy of Robin’s hands or cock or mouth. “You know how much I like it when you tell me what you want, sheriff. So tell me.”

“I want to come, please,” he says, and he almost looks as if he’s in pain, twitching and writhing in Robin’s grasp.

“Do you deserve to come?” He slows the pull of his hand, relishes the whimper Nottingham lets out. “Do you? After your little misplaced show of jealousy earlier?”

“Please.” Nottingham opens his eyes, stares at him desperately. “Locksley, please, I need to come. I — I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Suck your cock some more. Or you could fuck my ass. Anything. Please.”

“What if what I want is for you to not come tonight?” Robin teases, and this time he actually lets go of Nottingham’s cock. He drops his hand away, though he can’t resist tickling his balls, kneading them between his fingers for a moment.

“Please! Oh please, Locksley, please, I’m sorry,” he babbles, eyes wide and almost fearful. “Please, let me come.”

Robin smirks, gripping his cock once more and squeezing. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You. I’m yours, please, I’m yours,” Nottingham answers without any hesitation, and Robin leans in, kissing him.

“Good boy,” is all he says before he spins him in his arms. Pressed into his back, he reaches back around, taking a hold of his cock and pumping him, quick and dirty. Nottingham groans loudly, a string of _yes_ es and _please_ s falling from his lips, hips jerking in Robin’s hold.

“Come for me, Nottingham.”

The sound Nottingham releases when he comes goes right through Robin, makes him want to fuck him all over again just to hear that sound once more time. He strokes Nottingham through it, slowly bringing him down until the sheriff slumps in his arms, a gasping, breathless mess.

Robin drops a kiss on his shoulder, pats his bum before he lets him go. “Good man, sheriff. Perhaps you should join me the next time I have a whore. I think we’d have a lot of fun together.”

Nottingham moans, doesn’t seem to have the strength to even pull his pants back up yet. All the better for Robin, since he needs to get out of here before the sheriff decides to try to arrest him.

“Until next time, darling,” Robin teases, pulling Nottingham into a quick, biting kiss.

And then he’s gone, leaving the sheriff bare-assed in the alleyway, debased by the Prince of Thieves once more.


End file.
